


One More Wolf

by PassionateSoul



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:33:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionateSoul/pseuds/PassionateSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danya Stark was a rarity in The North, with her wheat colored hair, and grey eyes but not missing the fierce personality of most of the women at the North.<br/>Danya Of House Stark will come to change the game and people as we know it. After all there has never been a Wolf in the court of dragons before. Watch out Aerys, you have no idea what is in store.<br/>A/U Where an OC catches the eye of not only some lords of Westeros but a certain prince too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *Revised as of 12/2016*
> 
> I'd like to give a shout out to my Beta Miss Jade Celandine who took a look at my work and gave it a chance. Thank You !
> 
> On another note, to those who are waiting for an update on Balance I am truly sorry but I write as inspiration comes and right now I am still on the process of thinking where I want it to go.

**PROLOGUE**

To the Stark bannermen and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, Rodrik Stark was very well known; he was given the moniker The Wandering Wolf because he never seemed to take root anywhere until his later years. Whilst he took to wandering, he went on to become a hedge knight and later a sellsword, totalling a little more than two decades in service. Before entering his third decade on the road, he was called by his liege lord and cousin to do his duty. Once he was in the North Ser Rodrik was to choose a northern lady to wed. There in Winterfell he met all potential brides but found none he was sure he would come to love. At least, not until he met Arya Flint.

For all that the Wandering Wolf had seen and been through, he had never fallen in love not until he met the Lady Flint. And although he was almost three decades her senior his feelings were requited. 

The lady Arya Flint was already a maid flowered at nine-and-ten and considered too old not to be married, yet she was the jewel of her father’s eye and so he was convinced to wait for the man she would feel something positive towards to marry. Arya Flint was a lady through and through so she still had some notions of courtly love and chivalry but she also knew her duty was to deliver her husband a son to pass on his title and wealth. 

She had been visiting the ruling house of The North on the orders of her father. She was to be on the lookout for a husband when the lady met a man more than twice her age, who with his grizzled appearance and outgoing attitude had caught her attention. As she endeavored to spent some time with him, they got to know each other and soon enough they were wedded and bedded.

* * *

About one year to the mark of their marriage, the newly wedded lady Stark was to deliver very important news to her husband.

For the past few weeks Arya had been feeling nauseous and thought to go to the maester, hoping she was right in her suspicions. It had been two moons without her menses and with the maester’s thorough examination, it was confirmed Arya was to give birth seven moons later. As the ninth month came, Arya already in confinement delivered with some trouble a baby girl. They named her Branda. After her birth, the lady Arya was given news by their maester that it would come to be harder for the lady to become pregnant again.

As the years passed the chances of the lord Rodrik’s seed quickening again were getting grim, at least they were in the lady’s mind. Arya was becoming worried that if she did not give Rodrik his heir he would search elsewhere, leaving her alone. On the other hand the Wanderer was quite happy to even have a child at his age of seven-and-forty, and getting to spend time with his beloved wife to boot.

When Branda was six namedays old, the awaited news was finally delivered: the lady Stark was once again with child and by the looks of it, twins. The lord and lady were very excited by the news; both hoped the twins were healthy and strong though Arya hoped dearly for a boy. Once again the lady Stark was put in confinement although this time a little earlier since it was a high risk pregnancy with it being twins and because of the trouble that had begun with her first pregnancy.

Soon enough the word went out throughout the whole keep that the lady gave birth to healthy, twin GIRLS. Arya Stark nee Flint was NOT pleased.

The first of the twins was given a good strong Northern name: Lyarra, that went with the Stark family looks. The second babe came with a tuft of the wheat-colored hair of House Flint and later on would only have the Stark grey eyes; she was given the name Danya in honor of her southron grandmother and the Flint hair.

* * *

As the three sisters grew and their mother withdrew more and more  into herself, they were each left to develop their own unique personalities. Not to mention the coddling of their father! Branda, the oldest, was levelheaded and quite serious yet secretly yearned to have a family to call her own. Branda became the twins’ second mother figure after the various miscarriages their mother suffered, making Arya bitter about her perceived failings; in turn the girls learned to rely on each other and in their father, when he was not on one of his trips.

Lyarra, being the middle child, came to balance her wolfsblood early on their childhood to keep an eye on her twin, but still retained some of her adventurous side. She went on to learn how to horseback-ride the way a man would. She was the more balanced of the sisters between adventurousness and the womanly arts. Both Branda and Lyarra dedicated themselves to the duties of a highborn lady while the youngest of the girls was a hellion ever since she learned how to walk.

Danya may have been the only one of the three to have blond colored hair and soft silver eyes-- the color more pronounced than her sisters’, yet she was certainly the wildest of the three. Very early on, Danya skipped the lessons of their septa to train on endurance to someday wield a sword. ‘Being a warrior is my calling’ she would explain to her father later on when he found her training with a wooden sword.

Rodrik mightn’t have been called a conventional father figure so as he grew in his old age he still had some fight in him to become aggressive in his decision to teach his daughters the basics of handling a dagger. Whilst the two eldest stopped when they had a handle on it, Danya pleaded to be taught more. Seeing that Danya was serious about training, Rodrik made a deal with her and himself; that if his daughter would train to become a warrior then he would be the one to personally train her to fight and to lead, to pass on all that he knew of the world. In turn his little she-wolf would put an effort on her classes with the septa.

Secretly, he was aware that even though he loved all his children, he favored Danya the most. Rodrik was of the mind that she looked the most like her mother but had his wandering spirit and therefore she was to be given all the tools to succeed in a world where she did not quite fit in.

  
  
And so the years passed and the girls matured into young women, bringing us to the beginning of this story.   



	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

“Today is the day I’m to be officially meeting my soon-to-be kin and I can’t seem to have anything appropriate to wear to the gathering!” Lyarra’s unusual whining voice could be heard throughout the keep as she fretted about all the details of the meeting.

“Do not fret dearest sister, you know you’ll look beautiful with any of your dresses on. Besides, you know that for all that Rickard is a very composed man, he always falters when he sees you,” Danya commented as she ate a peeled apple she got out of the kitchens.

“It’s easy for you to say, you look astounding in anything you wear be it women's clothes or men's…and that might be so but I am not wanting to disappoint mother on this,” she answered to the last comment.

“Now I relate with Branda when she was meeting Ser Rogers to finalize their betrothal,” Lyarra huffed as she sat down beside her twin.

“Hopefully I’ll not be like the both of you when I marry. No, I know I won’t be like that!” Danya tried to reassure herself but failed to no one’s surprise. After all, Danya could be surprisingly insecure when it came to womanly talk.

“Since when do you even consider marrying an available option for yourself, eh Danya?”

“Since you two are doing it I might as well try it… but my husband will have to accept me, quirks and all if he wants me for a wife!” her voice ended on a serious note.

“Well, we’ll see how father reacts to that piece of news. You must know by now that you have the place of favorite in his heart, therefore he’ll be most reluctant giving away his ‘lovely she-wolf’,” Lyarra cautioned, resigned when mentioning their father’s view on the youngest of his daughters.

“That’s nonsense Lyarra and you know it. Papa loves us equally and without restraint, unlike mother,” was heard bitterly from said she-wolf.

“…Uh huh…”

A body was then hit by a pillow, smacking someone down on their bed.

“Careful with the dress!”

At least there was some laughter in the end.

* * *

 

Lady Arya Stark née Flint was in her element. She had outdone herself on preparing everything for the coming of the Stark heir Rickard and their meeting to broker the last of the dowry.

The lady Arya was a very stern woman unlike her husband who always had a smile on his face. After all the miscarriages and a stillborn son she suffered through, she felt that she failed on her duty. No matter what she had been told by her love she still felt a little of resentment towards her children for none who survived were a son.

Do not think that because she ignored and barely tolerated her daughters that she did not love them. ‘Tis just that she did it from considerable distance.

Once she was done checking that everything was as it should be she dismissed the servants and went to look for the missing members of her family.

As she went up the stairs she found herself face to face with her rebellious child.

“‘Tis good you have come. The party is almost here so go fetch your sister. We must all look our best to them, they are uniting themselves with us so no embarrassing this family and ruining this marriage, is that clear?” Arya thundered towards her daughter with a no nonsense tone.

Danya’s gaze connected with her mother’s and she crooned falsely, “Why of course mother! We wouldn’t want to fail Lyarra wouldn’t we? Do not fret! I’ll be on my best behavior, I promised father didn’t I?”

“Do not give me that tone of voice, Danya you—“

“M’lady and my lovely she-wolf, you both look stunning this day.” Thundered a joyous voice from down the staircase.

“Papa! Did you come from the training yard? If you did then why did you not call for me, eh?”

“Rik, my love, did you get everything sorted out with the steward?”

Both women tended to want the attention of their lord on them. They also tended to be unrestrained in their attempts at getting the attention.

“Aye m’sweet, I talked to Tom about the coming of the main line. My she-wolf was busy helping her sister get ready; how could I get between that, I say?” the wandering wolf answered the questions patiently.

As they were about to part, “M’sorry to interrupt m’lord, m’ladies but we were notified that our liege lord and company are on their way up towards the keep, they’ll be here soon,” came from the hurried maester coming towards them.

“You heard him Danya, go fetch your sister quickly and meet us on the main courtyard to welcome our lord here. And you my love will have to get a change of clothes to meet your cousin,” the matriarch ordered.

“Very well.”

“Of course m’lady.”

* * *

 

The Starks of Winterfell were able to be seen from the courtyard by their cousins and as they waited patiently for them to properly arrive Lyarra began to play with her hands as a nervous impulse. The oncoming family finally descended from their horses and in case of the lady got off of the wheelhouse to meet them.  Once both families were face to face they greeted each other formally and were immediately given the guest rights as tradition demanded. Once done, Rodrik as the lord of the keep began the greeting.

“I once more welcome you to our Keep, my lord nephew, his lady and his heir Rickard Stark.” Rodrik loudly exclaimed.

“Thank you uncle. “ 

“Yes, thank you Lord Stark, it has been a long and tedious journey here. We would like some rest if you please,” the lady Marna Stark nee Locke stated with a disdainful undertone to her voice.

Arya, seeing that the other lady was not in a mood for small talk interrupted the awkward silence.

“Well then if you would follow my daughters and I, we will show you the way to your chambers.”

“My Lady, if you would lead the way, then.”

 

Once everyone was refreshed and had rested for a short while the Lord Edwyle, and Rodrik went into the private office of the Lord to oversee the wedding contract once more. Whilst the men were locked doing business, the women were checking that everything be in perfect order for the wedding happening in less than half-a-moon’s time.

They also checked for the letter with the Royal seal, giving the couple the permission to marry from the king.

All that was needed was for the time to pass, for the wedding to arrive.

* * *

 

Although this was the wedding of the heir of a great house it became more of an exclusively Northern celebration. Many of the banner-men of the Stark Family, such as the Mormonts, Umbers, Karstarks and even the Boltons were to attend.

Soon the day set for the wedding ceremony was upon them all. Everything was ready and in order, everything was—

“Where in the seven hells is Danya!” was heard from the upper levels of the keep. Thankfully the guest chambers were at a distance from the screaming Arya.

“Now my love, she must have gone on her morning ride and —“

“Do not give me false comfort Rodrik. I should have known your daughter would do this on one of the most important days of Lyarra’s life. Can’t she act like a lady for once in her life!” She made a frustrating sound and reprimanded her daughter to her husband, as always.

“I’ll go look for her.”

“Do be quick about it.”

* * *

 

Rodrik walked a good distance to where he knew his favored daughter would be, after all he had taken her there many times over the years. It was located in the abandoned part of the castle where a hidden field laid; in it was one of the largest places to hold her favorite flower: the blue winter rose.

Indeed it looked like she had been waiting for him for a while. He sat beside her and without any prompt she began to speak.

“Father, I am sorry for not being ready yet but I couldn’t take it anymore. I just….” Danya tried to explain but could not get all of it out before she started to sob.

“I understand my fiery she-wolf, after all she is your twin. She has been with you since the moment you were conceived until this very moment in time. That is all about to change and you feel afraid to be left without both of your sisters.”

“I don’t know how to deal with it, da. I just can’t seem to accept that Branda has already married and now Lyarra is going to leave me too.”

“You know you will always have them in your heart, if not close to you in body. The same goes for them for sooner or later Winter Will Come and while the…”

“….lone wolf dies, the pack survives.” They both murmured to each other. 

Danya finally gave her father a tentative smile and…

“I better go get ready, eh?”

“Yes, now run along my sweetling.”

* * *

Rodrik was once again on the move but this time the reason was his other daughter, the bride. He knocked on her chamber and after hearing a whispered ‘come in’, he entered. Noticing there were some other ladies and servants there with her, he commanded to leave them. Once he was left with the bride he turned to her,

“My dearest Lyarra how are you this fine morning, eh?” he jested for a bit.

“I hope everything is well with you. Any doubts you have of doing this, because you know you are still able to get out of it if you so choose to.”

Lyarra looked at her papa, the only man that has occupied her time and heart until recently of course.

“I might cry a little bit, papa but it’s because I am happy. I am marrying the man I chose. I had time to get to know him, time to fall in love with him, therefore I am sure he will do right by me.”

“As you say my pup, as you say. I am extremely happy you have found the man you always dreamed to spend the rest of your life with.” Father tried to reassure daughter.

“Are you ready?’ he finally asked after embracing Arra.

“Absolutely.”

“Well then, will you follow me m’lady?” and thankfully she did.

 

Now that everyone was ready, the guests started to move outside towards the weirwood trees. There they took seats while the septon who will start the Seven’s version of the wedding ceremony was located in the front.

The Stark heir was already in a foul mood, no one would dare point it out but he looked very much like a nervous buck. Except when he did a double take and realized that coming towards him was the most beautiful woman to have ever cross his path; his bride. All his worries left him and in their stead came joy.

 

“Who gives away the lady Lyarra Stark?” The Lord of Winterfell and the Septon of the Seven intoned.

“Her father does.” Rodrik solemnly stated.

And the rest was all a blur for the now newly-wedded couple.


End file.
